


Because He is What Matters

by whiplashcrash



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Kallus is Zeb's knight in stolen Zygerrian armor, M/M, Zygerrian scum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24026110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiplashcrash/pseuds/whiplashcrash
Summary: The Zygerrians have a reputation for breaking even the most powerful of of spirits. Zeb is a force to be reckoned with, but under the crack of Mosok's whip, all Kallus can see is his pain, and the hatred in his green eyes.But this can't be about Kallus. It has to be about Zeb.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Comments: 13
Kudos: 80
Collections: Kalluzeb appreciation week 2020.





	Because He is What Matters

**Author's Note:**

> For Kalluzeb Appreciation Week Day 5 - Undercover Prompt  
> Short, angsty, but with a soft ending. Yay, I wrote something!

It was difficult to keep his emotions in check. Of course, he had over a decade of experience in remaining calm and composed in even the worst situations, but when the love of his life cried out under the horrible whip of that Zygerrian slaver Kallus nearly forgot everything he had ever learned. 

He could not flinch, he could not cry out, or reach for Zeb as much as every part of him begged him to scream, to beg the horrible man to stop. Kallus stood, arms crossed without so much as a word, or a change on his face. His fingernails dug into the cloth of his sleeve. Oh how he wished they were in the Zygerrian’s throat instead.

Zeb didn’t even know he was there.

Kallus had been in the belly of the beast for weeks, waiting for his love, hoping that he’d been right, that Zeb would appear amongst the new intake of slaves every few days. After two weeks of checking every single group of new arrivals, Kallus began to struggle with the idea that Zeb would not be coming, or worse, that he’d somehow missed Zeb in his search. He prepared himself to wait for as long as it took, to search until he either succeeded or died trying when Kallus saw the flicker of purple stripes in a crowd of prisoners.

The relief he’d felt when he saw Zeb had been overshadowed by the distress that had consumed Kallus at where he saw Zeb.

It took an entire day and night, one whole day and night to find an opportunity filled with pain and soaking up every moment of Zeb there was to find a chance to contact Hera. It wasn’t until after the guard shift changed that Kallus slipped away and keyed up the familiar transmitter that he was able to reach her and the Ghost in orbit over but when Kallus filled Hera in on the plan, she reluctantly agreed. 

“Kallus, I’m worried about you.” She said, arms crossed and frowning sadly.

“Why?”

Hera sighed. “This can’t be easy for you.”

“This isn’t about me.” Kallus snapped, standing so quickly he sent his chair flying backwards. “It’s about Zeb.”

“Kal, please.” 

“Please? Please what?” Gesturing wildly, Kallus paced back and forth in front of the hand-held holoprojector on the table, grief and anger rising out of his control. “Hera, I can’t focus on more than one thing at a time, and I have to stay focused on him. Not on me, not on how I feel and certainly not on how difficult this must be for me, because Zeb is what matters. Not me. He matters.”

“Kallus, of course he matters. But if we lose you and get Zeb back, it’s not a zero-sum game, Kallus. We need you. He needs you, Alex. He will hate himself if he loses you to these slavers, possibly for the rest of his life.”

“He’ll be alive to hate himself. I can live with that.”

“That might hurt him more than the Zygerrians.”

Kallus flinched. Hera likely didn’t know for sure, but if his silence was any indicator, she’d suspect she had gone too far. “I’m signing off now.”

“Kallus, please.”

“Fulcrum out.”

The waiting had been the easy part. Then, Kallus had to watch. He had to watch and not move a muscle no matter how brutal the slave driver was, no matter how terrible the look in Zeb’s eyes. He could not step in and defend his love when the kind-hearted Lasat tried to look out for others only to be punished for breaking rules about sharing food.

The Zygerrians took great pleasure in beating their stock, not caring if they were killed as a result of their brutal conditioning. Zeb was strong, but he’d been missing for weeks, and badly beaten before he’d disappeared. His strength was beyond that of a human’s, but as Kallus knew all too well, the Zygerrians specialized in breaking even the strongest.

Rumors circled surrounding the former presence of a Jedi slave in another facility at one point, and after spending as much time there as he had, Kallus found himself doubting the stories less and less.

Zeb shouted, bending under the crack of electricity in his skin and up his spine. Kallus could see it in his eyes: Zeb wanted to fight, wanted to resist and tear his way through the guards without a second thought. But he didn’t, perhaps he couldn’t. Those same eyes looked up at where Kallus was standing with such loathing, it made him ache at the thought of his Zeb carrying that kind of contempt for him.

“It’s a Lasat!” One if the men laughed, drawing his whip with a sinister smile Kallus had grown to despise. “Oh, we haven’t had a Lasat here in too long! I almost forgot how to break your kind, beast. But unfortunately for you, I had not quite yet forgotten,”

Zeb said nothing; he didn’t have to. The look of sheer defiance in his eyes was enough. “I was told there were no more Lasats to be found. But here you are, a straggler, the last of your kind, destined to be my client’s pet. How quaint.” The Zygerrian cracked his whip again over the shout that Zeb did not keep down. Kallus clenched his jaw and crossed his arms. 

He had to wait, to wait until the pieces of the plan fell into place. If he acted too soon, this would have all been for nothing, and Kallus would never rescue Zeb. The longer he waited, however, the less there would be left of Zeb to rescue. 

Zeb, his Zeb, a proud warrior with a brilliant smile and that inexplicable ability to make Kallus laugh like he had never laughed before in his life could not break. Kallus would not allow it. He would rather die than see Zeb lose one more thing to the blasted Empire. Worse yet, for Zeb to lose one more thing because of Kallus was nothing short of damning.

Kallus followed the facility director and the two guards on either side of Zeb down the hall. The only sound in the dead of night was their footsteps, and the groans of the Zygerrians’ victims. As soon as they passed by the door, Kallus seized his chance. 

He shot both guards, and though he’d aimed for the cruelest Zygerrian, Kallus could do little to pull the trigger of a blaster when it was knocked out of his hands. Mosok cracked his whip again, and struck Kallus in the face.

His back hit the floor, and his helmet came off; the Zygerrian armor no longer required. “You! You are the human the Empire warned us about!”

“With good reason!” Kallus said, back on his feet and fists up. “You made a grave mistake in making an enemy out of myself and my friends.”

Mosok sneered. “Not as grave as your mistake, Agent Kallus.” His hand twisted, and the orange coil snapped when it wrapped around Kallus’s wrist. Kallus, however, pulled on the electro-whip and unbalanced Mosok, who had not been prepared for a fight. 

Kallus foot collided with Mosok’s gut and then his face, with one final tug to free the whip from Mosok’s grasp.

“I would disagree,” Kallus sneered. “Agent Kallus made the decision to leave behind the Empire for the Rebellion, because of the Lasat you’ve taken it upon yourself to beat and torture for your own twisted satisfaction.”

Mosok stood and though he was without his whip, he took a swing at Kallus. Although he missed, he did not let down his guard, and tried to strike again. Kallus dodged again, and put his elbow quite firmly in the back of Mosok’s neck.

The Zygerrian snarled as Kallus evaded yet another blow. “I’d be happy to let you join him, before I send you back to the Empire!”

He roared, charging Kallus head on. It was a mistake, although Kallus was not as strong as Mosok, he was clever. Kallus caught Mosok’s head under his arm and pressed Mosok’s neck up against the side of Kallus’s rib cage. He stumbled backwards, and then twisted as hard as he could with a shout.

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

Mosok’s body hit the floor next to the other two Zygerrians. Kallus heaved a sigh of relief, and scooped up his blaster, gloved hand brushing off whatever dust it might have picked up. It was then he realized. 

“Oh, karabast,” Kallus looked up to meet Zeb’s gaze, cuffed hands held out in front of him. “Kal?”

“Yes. It’s me.” Kallus shrugged with an embarrassed smile. 

“You-you’re here,”

“Yes, well, so are you.”

“Kal, you’re _here_.”

“I- yes, we’ve established that.”

Zeb trembled, reaching up to touch Kallus’s face with eyes that pleaded desperately for him, for Kallus to be real. “Oh, Alex,”

“Yes?”

Zeb choked back a sob. “You- you found me.”

“I did.”

“You’re here!”

“I _am_.”

“I never thought I’d see you again. Karabast, I thought I was as good as dead.”

“I wasn’t going to let you slip through my fingers. Not again, not after everything you and I have been through.” Those fingers weaved their way into his fur, and Kallus sighed when Zeb took in his scent with an uncharacteristically unsteady breath. 

Kallus forced himself to let go of Zeb, and lean backwards off his toes to stand flat on his feet. Zeb followed, but Kallus kept moving backwards and crouched by the bodies of each of the guards, searching. Kallus pulled a rectangular metal key out of one of their pockets, releasing the lock on the cuffs Zeb had been wearing, and tearing off the horrible collar. 

It only served Zeb to wrap himself back into Kallus’s arms. “We have to go.” 

“Alex.” Zeb didn’t let go.

“Zeb, if they hand us both over to the Empire, this reunion will be cut short entirely.” Kallus tried to say as levelly as possible, but it was so nice to be in Zeb’s arms like neither of them had a care in the world.

“I just wanna hold you for a minute.” Zeb sounded so dejected, Kallus flinched. Zeb shuddered and buried his face into Kallus’s neck even deeper. No matter how unlike him the physical need was for Zeb, the hunger his soul had to touch and hold Kallus, Kallus knew he wasn’t much different.

”I know. I do, too.” Kallus wrapped his arms over Zeb’s broad shoulders and let himself be lifted into the air with a gentle smile. “I do, too.” 

“Alex,” Zeb said voice muffled as he pressed his face into Kallus’s neck. “I love you.”

No matter how many times Zeb said it, Kallus melted into a puddle of blond Coruscanti goo every time Zeb uttered those words. “And I love you.”

“Thank you,” Zeb said, sighing shakily. “Thank you for coming here.”

Kallus nodded as best he could. “Always.”


End file.
